Splatter Deux
by Word-Stranger
Summary: The sequel to Total Drama Splatter! Rating ranges from T-M. Currently on Hiatus.
1. Anew

**If blood is spilled,**

**To a psychopath, would it matter?**

**They are as mad as a hatter,**

**Despair does not make them sadder.**

**With each kill,**

**They become badder and badder.**

**Beware, they'll pierce your lungs and steal your bladder,**

**They are stealthly and vile, doing this without a clatter.**

**For this is the sequel to Total Drama Splatter.**

**Now that horrible intro is over...here we are, and I pray this story is as successful as the first. Enjoy!**

**Sorry if the first part the chapter offends you.**

* * *

It was nigh impossible to reach the living once you were dead. It was made even harder when you were an eternally damned spirit.

Doctor West let out shout of rage, pulling at the chains that bound him to his own personal hell. Darkness all around, he couldn't even see his hand in front of his face. And always...ALWAYS the voices! The voices that were in his head earlier had lead him to near godhood...but these voices were constantly chattering, filling his mind at all times with insanity. One was speaking about how it's day was. Another threatened to rip his limbs off.

It was that boy that did this to him. And that mask. He was so close...but Duncan and the Terror Mask...they ruined him. They sent him to Hell.

Another shout of rage, echoing around him into the boundless darkness.

And suddenly, a beacon of hope for the madman. A voice he did not recognize, but wanted it. He craved the voice to help him, to release him. A dim visage could be seen...

* * *

A chant filled the small room, heavy smoke drifted from incense candles and followed alongside the chant.

Two men sat in the room across from each other, the smoke giving them only an outline of each other. The younger, teenage one opened an eye."How much longer are we to do this?"He asked.

The older one shushed him fiercely."We do not know how long the spirits require us...it could be another minute, or another day. But don't worry, they shall heal you."

The teen sighed. He didn't need this. After losing Total Drama World Tour, he was left with horrifying scars and burns. He thought that coming to a spiritualist would help...but it was all just more mumbo jumbo crap to him. Alejandro stood up, wincing at the dull pain beating through his body."This is nice and all...but I really must be going."He waved the smoke away from his face, walking towards the exit.

The man warned him,"Do not break the ritual! There could be dire consequences!"

Alejandro shrugged."Whatever you say."His accented voice deep with contempt.

* * *

West's chains were loosening. He could see a teen...Latin...or was he Mexican?. He was once handsome, but a twist of fate had left him looking like a monster. West chuckled, the teen resembling a creature that he would summon once upon a time. But his mind...it retained it's evil nature. This boy was filled with hate.

His chains loosened even further, the darkness around him dissapearing. His prison was breaking, little by little. With the crazed voices weakening and leaving his mind, West looked on at Alejandro."Come now my boy...free me!"He screamed.

* * *

Alejandro opened the door, a cold breeze entering the stuffy room."I'm not paying you."He said over his shoulder to the man, who still was trying to keep the ritual going by chanting twice the normal speed. He stepped out of the room, a cold chill made him stop.

* * *

West was free. He was now a spectral mist, entering the physical realm. The malicious spirit spotted it's prey.

Alejandro breathed him in, his entire body shuddering violently. The candles were blown out by invisible forces. The chanting man stopped and looked at the teen warily."Are you okay, my friend...?"

He turned around, grinning, a strange fixture among the damaged flesh.

"I'm just fine...His voice seemed ancient now."But you on the other hand, are not."

A scream, and several minutes later Alejandro left the building with splatters of blood on his torso, walking into night with a pile of strange objects carried in his arms.

* * *

Duncan drove down an empty road in a beat-up truck, his only companion the punk rock music blaring from the radio. He had just dropped Gwen off at her house from a quick date they had, nothing special, but fun. Missing a ride of his own, he had decided to borrow his brother's truck. Borrow, as in jack the keys without his knowledge.

As he continued to drive, the inkiness of night began to slowly creep around him. He turned on his high beams, but even those barely penetrated the blackness surrounding him. Nearing the end of his ride, Duncan began to doze, even with the music so loud. His eyes heavy, his hands loosening on the wheel. Soon, he was asleep.

Images assaulted his mind in his brief period of sleep. West grinning his toothless grin. Gwen standing solemnly at a grave. Alejandro grinning as well. The Terror Mask resting in the box under his bed. All of the unspeakable terrors he had fought that night, almost a year ago came rushing to him.

He jolted awake, turning the wheel as fast and as sharply as he could, barely avoiding a telephone pole.

"What just happened..."He muttered to himself, pulling into his driveway ten minutes later.

He walked into his home, nodding at his father in the living room. The gruff police man gave a nod back. Going into his room, he plopped down on his bed, kicking off his converses and lying down to sleep.

Hours later into the night, more visions haunted him.

His dream was tinted red. A morphing image appeared before him. One moment it was the accursed Doctor West, the next it was Alejandro."Oh poor Duncan-boy..."It grinned, switching from toothless to maniacal. It's voice going from ancient to accents."I'm going to enjoy this. And I hope you thoroughly enjoy this little curse..."

The dream changed, bringing him to a graveyard. A vision from earlier, Gwen standing at a grave. He looked over her shoulder to see that it was his grave. Suddenly, Gwen collasped into a pile of dust and bones. His dream changed once more, bringing him back to the amalgamation of West and Alejandro."All you know shall soon end...I will return to my rightful place."The dream blurred."I will ascend once more...and you will die. All of you will die."

The image shattered, leaving Duncan to wake in a cold sweat.

He could not sleep for the rest of the night, for fear of the nightmares returning.

...The next morning, Duncan trudged into the kitchen, his eyes bloodshot with bags under them. He grabbed his breakfast items, a glass of orange juice and a bagel, pulled up a chair to the kitchen counter, then collapsed into it. He halfheartedly ate the bagel, and only took small sips of the OJ. Not even the bright sunlight streaming through a nearby window perked him up, only made him wish he had some sunglasses at hand.

The ringing phone didn't help either. After the annoyance rung for the fifth time, he stood up and groped about for it, answering."Hello...?"The Punk asked in a dazed state.

"Hey,"Gwen chirped a reply. Her voice instantly sobered him up.

"Hey! Watcha up to?"Duncan asked, as if his insomnia-esque night was long gone.

"Just wondering..."Her voice carried off, he could hear the tapping of her finger against a sheet of paper."You wanna go to the Fair that's coming this Saturday?"

"The Fair?"He echoed her words.

"Yeah, the Fair. Y'know, fatty foods, cheap magic, and rusty dangerous rides?"

"Sounds like my kind of place."

"Is that a yes, or a no?"

"Yeah, I'll go."He nodded, even though they weren't talking in person.

"Good!"

After a short chat afterwards, Duncan hung up the phone, looking at the calender hanging on the wall beside him. Today was Thursday, the night of fun and games only two days away.

"...CRAP!"He shouted, almost forgetting about school. Rushing to his room, he performed several tasks almost at once. Throwing some decent-smelling clothes on, making sure his green mohawk was straight, and grabbing a few mints for his bed breath,he was outside in three minutes flat, driving down the road in the still 'borrowed' truck.

A small thought popped into his mind as he was halfway down the road. He had arrived at school the rest of the week before, so skipping this day seemed fair. Turning a corner, he proceeded to drive towards his favorite ditching spot, well the favorite ditch spot of all teenage delinquents.

He arrived at the back of the local Mall, the loading by area with trucks, dumpsters, and graffiti smeared walls all around. Why the back area of the Mall? Rarely visited by employee's and little to no surveillence. Plus, it was risky to be inside during school hours. The security and staff knew of the school's schedule, so anyone who appeared to be under the age of eighteen was singled then kicked out.

Pulling up and parking, Duncan rolled down the window and took in a deep breath, filling his senses with the taste of chewed bubblegum and cigarette smoke. As he got out of the truck, the conversation of a group of teens nearby caught his attention.

"Dude! Did ya hear about what happened last night around midnight?"

"Nah, I was lights out by ten."

"Some local shaman guy got murdered. Cops have no idea how it happened though, most of his organs just went up and dissapeared. No sharp tools around though to cut them out."

"Whoah...seriously?"

More images began to plague Duncan once more. Moving around like a violently shaking camera, his mind's eye saw Alejandro...or who thinks was Alejandro, shove his hand into the spiritualist's chest, a splay of blood, and watched as he moved around his innards, searching. Alejandro pulled out a heart, a lung, and some coiled mush that appeared to be intestines.

Duncan forced the thoughts away, stumbling around as if drunk. A pair of firm hands kept him from keeling over into the concrete."Bra, you okay?"

One of the teens, a skater, had come up and kindly grabbed him by the shoulders."Name's Jude. You buzzed? Me and my crew could get you home if you want."The beanie-wearing, blonde skater kept him standig."Hey Nikki!"He called over his shoulder to a purple-haired girl. Kinda reminded Duncan of his beloved Gwen."You free from working at the Khacki Barn? This bra needs a ride!"

Duncan shook his head, steadying himself."No...I'm fine."He took a step back to the truck."Thanks though."Getting in and driving off, he couldn't even enjoy ditching school.

* * *

**Ha...6teen cameo appearances.**

**Anyway, hope this first chapter leads up to an even better story than the first.**


	2. Rising

**The beginning of the end is at hand,**

**Is prepared every woman, child, or man?**

**Against this dark force,**

**Only a few could stand,**

**And ever hope onto this monster force a ban.**

**Grab your sword, your bow, your horse,**

**And fight on with no remorse.**

**Ah, as readers from my first story know, a song has to go along with a fight scene when it comes up. For this one, 'Car Chase City' by Tenacious D should fit it.**

* * *

The truck rolled across an empty road, the once blue sky shifting to grey, and then quickly to black. Duncan was heading home, but the strange weather attracted his attention from heading back to his bed and crash on it for a few hours. He turned on the radio, twisting the dial until a local station was found. It picked up the radio signal mid-sentence"-Thunderstorm warnings within the vicinity. We repeat,The forecast for today calls for severe thunderstorms and heavy rain. We recommend staying inside today if possib-"

He shut off the radio, trying to clear his head and pay attention to driving again. His mind was still groggy from the sudden assault of blood red images from earlier, and a dreaded creeping feeling was itching away within him. Was West back?

As he continued along the road, he was forced to turn on his headlights and windshield wipers, the rain beginning to pour heavily. Duncan nearly drove off the side of the road when a booming thunderstroke echoed through the area, as if some giant slumbering beast had decided to step out of the sky and crash into the ground. Another thunderous noise, and he jolted out of his seat. Following the flooding rain and thunder, lightning began to flash across the sky. With each spark, the dark clouds were eerily outlined stark white against their black nature.

A noise in the back of the truck. At first, Duncan considered it nothing. He only payed attention when the car begin to squeak and rock. Turning his head ever so slightly, he couldn't see anything out the window, too dark outside. Then lighting lit up the world for a second, revealing a ghastly image in the pickup. Duncan's eyes widened at the snake-like face, it's eyes milky white, it's fangs razor sharp and in a vast multitude within it's maw. Just as quickly, the image dissapeared when the lightning left, leaving the Punk startled and wide awake now.

For the next few minutes, his adrenaline kept him alert and pumping, expecting the monstrous being to return any moment. It did not until he calmed down. More jolting of his truck, another lightning flash, and the monster was on the hood of the truck, gazing at him menacingly. Duncan slammed on the brakes, sending the creature to thrash in front of the truck on the pavement. With it in his headlights reach, it's grotesque form was in full view for assessment. As before, it was serpent in body, sickly green in color, white eyes, dozens of teeth. It recovered as if no damage had been done, sitting up and looking at Duncan momentarily. At first he thought it had become docile, then it struck, it's heading crashing right through the front window and inches away from biting his head off. It pulled back, about to attack again.

Duncan hit the pedal, the tires screeching for a moment, then the truck bursted forward, slamming into the snake and running it over. He then shifted into reverse, going back and hitting the serpent again as it tried to sit back up. He shifted into drive again, and repeated his steps of running over the thing for a good four or five minutes. After he was sure the thing was dead, Duncan, looked out his window, the snake monster a writhing mass of flesh and blood on the pavement. Slowly, it died down until all movement ceased. It seems the moment the monster wa sdead, the rain and sky began to clear. The Punk sighed and resumed driving home.

* * *

"...It's dead."

"I know it's dead! Do you not think that I know when one of my own servants is dead?"

"Just wanted to let you know."Alejandro said, gazing at himself in a mirror shard, his whole body completely recovered. West was now within, part of him, and the madman had done quite a job on healing. In fact, Alejandro thought, he was more handsome than ever.

The voice inside Alejandro's head sighed."I should've known it would take more than such a simple beast to kill him."West sighed once more."We'll need more sacrifices if we are to be rid of Duncan."

"Got some right here."Alejandro waved behind him. He stood in a urban alleyway, the mutilated bodies of three homeless men were laying against the dumpster."Will they do?"

"Actually...yes, yes they will."

Alejandro chuckled, West laughing along with him from inside his mind. The spirit found this young man's conscious to be quite interesting. He held up a facade for others, while within some of the most devious thoughts stirred. He loved the vileness of this boy's soul. It would prove most helpful with his new plan.

* * *

Duncan arrived home, and was relieved to find the abode empty. He entered, locked the door behind him, and rushed upstairs. In his room, Duncan pulled a cardboard box from under his bed. He then plopped down on his bedside, opening the box and peering inside. A few mementos of the past greeted him. A wrench from his first bike fix, the cast from when he first broke his leg. A few baseball cards, some rock cd's. All of these covered what was most important at the time at the bottom. He pushed the clutter aside and pulled out a steel hockey mask, gulping as he stared at it's empty eye sockets.

"Hey...you think you could help me?"He asked, not expecting an answer. The Mask remained silent.

"Thought so..."Duncan shrugged, laying on his back and closing his eyes, trying to drift back to sleep.

As he entered the realm of dreams and rest, visages of the mask entered his thoughts. It wanted him to put it on. He needed it, and the Terror Mask knew it. A threat was coming, and Duncan needed to be prepared.

* * *

A few hours later, Duncan awoke to the sound of a car door slamming. He groggily looked at his alarm clock and found it to be 8:00. His parents were off shift now. As he stood up from his restful slumber, he found the mask to still be in his hand, and in his thoughts. Hesitantly, he held the mask in front of his face. Slowly, ever so slowly, he brought it closer, feeling th cold metal meld with his skin. A surge of pain erupted through him, and he tried to stifle his screams. He fell to the floor as the transformation that came along with putting on the mask on took place.

"Hello, Duncan-boy."

* * *

**Short and suckworthy. I promise I'll get back into my writing flow soon.**


End file.
